Hanging Falls

by Margaret Mizushima

  Mattie thought it ironic that here was a girl, sitting before her in her unusual clothing, who’d led a sheltered life with strict rules and expectations, and what she wanted most was to have a normal job. “So you’d like to travel and see the world, huh?”

  “Yeah. Luke and I talked about driving to Mount Rushmore on our honeymoon. He wanted to see more of the world too.” Hannah’s lip trembled.

  “Thank you for sharing this with me. You’ve done the right thing, sweetheart.” Mattie felt an urge to get back to Stella and Brody. She’d gleaned enough to know that she’d left her colleagues in a place that harbored a killer, possibly an entire gang of killers.

  She turned to Cole. “I have to go, but you all need to be careful. Ruth Vaughn might figure out that Angie helped Hannah. Someone could come after her.”

  “We’ll go home and batten down the hatches.” Cole followed her out the door. “Isaac King has a buggy whip that he threatened to use on the Perry horse. Make sure you find that—it could have Luke’s DNA on it.”

  Mattie nodded. “Maybe you should take everyone to the station. You’ll be safe there.”

  “We’ll be all right,” Cole said, taking her hand as she turned to leave. “You be careful.”

  “Always.” Mattie squeezed his hand and hurried out to her unit, where Robo was waiting.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Mattie called Sheriff McCoy as she drove away from the Flynn house. When he answered, she summed up everything she’d learned during the past half hour. “What do you hear from Stella and Brody?”

  “I decided to have them pull away from the property, and they’re parked on the highway, watching the place and waiting for me to get back to them. The distance made more sense under the circumstances. Folks out there think we’re searching for Hannah, and I didn’t want them to know they were under suspicion.”

  Relieved to hear it, Mattie wondered about next steps. “How should we approach this?”

  “We’ve got enough to get a search warrant now. Come to the station, and we’ll set up a plan.”

  * * *

  Lightning flared toward the east while the entire Timber Creek police force drove to the compound. They moved quietly without flashing lights. No sirens. Just a string of four vehicles with headlights piercing the darkness as they went to meet Stella and Brody—Deputies Johnson and Garcia in their cruisers, Sheriff McCoy in his Jeep, and Mattie and Robo in their unit.

  Mattie spoke to Robo as they drove, and he stood at the front of his cage as if listening to her every word. This time there would be no prep, no time when she changed out his equipment and revved him up to search.

  This time she and her partner would be in full apprehension mode. They both wore Kevlar, and it would be their role to intimidate and control, not befriend and win over a community. They’d been granted a warrant to search the premises for evidence of child abuse and any items that were part of a criminal act or illegal in nature, and those included whips, knives, and bottles of xylazine.

  Mattie pushed images from television footage of past law enforcement raids on compounds like this one out of her mind. Instead, she explained the action plan to her partner as they drove, partly to settle her nerves and partly because Robo was so smart that she remained convinced he understood everything she told him.

  A half mile from the compound, Stella and Brody joined their lineup in his cruiser. As they turned onto the lane that led to the buildings, all but Sheriff McCoy in the lead car turned off their headlights. Garcia and Johnson stayed parked in the lane and took to the field on foot to hold the perimeter.

  Lights were still on in the five trailer homes. Mattie would be watching those windows for anyone with a gun or weapon.

  Once parked, they exited their vehicles swiftly. She popped open the door at the front of Robo’s cage and he bailed through, leaping down to circle at her feet.

  Without a word, the sheriff and Stella headed toward the Vaughn trailer, while she and Brody went to the Kings’. They had the right to detain everyone living on the property while they executed the search warrant. If others came from their homes, they would make them stay in the yard where they could be observed.

  Although Hannah’s statement about child marriage provided impetus for law enforcement to act, it was still important to get their hands on those marriage records. They would provide proof to support Hannah’s statement.

  With Robo off leash and at heel, Mattie remained in the yard to back up Brody as he mounted the wooden stairs and paused.

  She heard McCoy’s knock on the door of the next trailer, followed immediately by Brody’s rap on the Kings’ door. She became hypervigilant, her ears focused on every sound and her eyes on every movement at the trailer’s windows.

  The porch light flicked on, and a young woman whom Mattie had seen with King earlier came to the door. “Yes?”

  “Sheriff’s Department, ma’am,” Brody said, his voice quiet and polite. “I need to speak with Isaac King, please.”

  A furrow of concern etched the woman’s brow in the dim light. “Isaac isn’t here.”

  Brody straightened. “Where is he?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Mattie felt her muscles tighten as if warding off a bullet to her back. She angled away from the door, scanning the darkness around her for Isaac, watching Robo out of the corner of her eye for any sign that he sensed immediate danger.

  Nothing.

  Stella appeared in the glow from the porch light, hustling Ruth around the corner of the Vaughn trailer and across the lit space, disappearing behind the Kings’ trailer as she headed toward their vehicles. McCoy followed, escorting Solomon, who protested loudly. Mattie knew they would secure the two parents in different vehicles and come back to assist with the search warrant, but with Isaac still loose, their plan threatened to fall apart.

  The woman’s eyebrows raised in alarm as she peered beyond Brody to the edge of her yard. “What’s happening? What’s wrong with Solomon?”

  Brody took a step forward. “I have a warrant to search the premises, ma’am. I need to come inside.”

  At the same time, Mattie used the radio transmitter at her shoulder to alert the others. “King is missing and unaccounted for.”

  Thunder rolled, and a cold breeze quickened. Mattie glanced upward to see clouds cover the moon—another storm moving in.

  McCoy rounded the corner of the trailer and mounted the steps to stand beside Brody. “I’m Sheriff McCoy, ma’am. We need to come inside.”

  And with that, he pressed his way inside the trailer with Brody on his heels. Mattie waited. Stella came to the edge of the lit space and paused there, scanning the yard.

  A man’s voice came from a short distance. “What’s going on here?”

  Stella spoke, her voice firm. “We have a search warrant for the premises, Mr. Grayson. Stay right here, please, where I can see you. Are you carrying a weapon?”

  “Of course not,” Ephraim said, sounding offended. “Why would you search our property? Is this about Hannah?”

  Mattie focused on the open trailer door, through which Brody had disappeared and she could still see McCoy’s back. At the same time, she kept an eye on Stella, who appeared to be dealing with Ephraim on her own and was not yet in need of assistance.

  Robo hovered at her left heel, restless and tense, a spring ready to launch. She steadied him with a touch and a quiet command. “Wait.”

  Brody came back outside, carrying an evidence bag, which he handed to Mattie. “King’s socks. He’s not here. She says he left about ten. The records are gone.”

  “Did he drive away?”

  “She says he didn’t. She doesn’t know if he’s in one of the other homes or the barn.”

  McCoy came through the door, speaking to the woman as he left. “You and the others stay inside. Don’t leave the premises.”

  “Our babies are asleep. Why would we leave? We have nothing to hide,” she said, her voice angry as she closed the door firmly behi
nd him.

  Other men were coming from the trailers, and McCoy went to help Stella with them, telling Mattie, “See if you can find King,” as he hurried past.

  She walked Robo a few steps away and placed the evidence bag on the ground. She squatted beside him and took his head in both hands, beginning the chatter with “Do you want to find a bad guy?” She didn’t want Robo to have any doubts about the man they were hunting. She wanted him to know they were looking for an enemy, not a friend. She wanted him prepared for anything.

  Robo pranced in place before nosing the bag. Mattie picked it up, held it for him to sniff, and then stood, leaving the bag on the ground.

  She said his name to get his attention before she raised her arm and flung it out in a gesture that encompassed the area. “Search.”

  Robo sprang, ears pinned, his nose scouring the ground in fast sweeps. He darted back and forth, heading away from the porch.

  Mattie imagined all those skin cells that Isaac had shed over the past days, clinging to the grass and dirt as he came and went going about his daily routine, leaving a trace of his scent everywhere. She knew that Robo was searching for the hottest scent, the freshest track that the man had laid down tonight. Her dog knew how to go after a bad guy. He knew what he was doing.

  Robo quartered the track, pinging back and forth as he homed in on the scent. Nose to the ground, he left the light around the trailer and headed into the darkness. Mattie rushed after him, sticking close, and she felt Brody fall in behind.

  Robo trotted toward the barn, and she ran to keep up. As soon as she realized he was heading toward the open double doors at the front, she pushed up next to him and grabbed the handle on the back of his Kevlar vest. She kept pace beside him until she pulled him to a stop outside the open door, taking shelter behind the barn wall while Brody settled in beside her.

  Bam, bam, bam!

  Three shots fired. Bullets whizzed through the doorway past her head. One struck the doorframe next to her, splintering the wood.

  “Shit,” Brody muttered.

  Mattie struggled to hold on to Robo. Shots fired meant “take down” to him. Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light, and she could see Brody reaching for his service weapon. “Call him out.”

  “Timber Creek county sheriff,” Brody shouted. “Isaac King, come outside. Hands up where we can see them.”

  Silence.

  “Come outside the barn, or we’ll send the dog,” Mattie shouted, hoping she wouldn’t have to.

  No response.

  Standard operating procedure would be to send Robo in alone, but Mattie couldn’t do it that way. He was her partner, and they acted together. Her heart rate in overdrive, Mattie shouted to Robo, “Take him, take the bad guy!”

  Robo disappeared into the black hole beyond the barn door, and Mattie leaped in behind him. She darted to the left just inside, flattening herself against the wall. She sensed that Brody had moved in and headed right.

  Thunder boomed overhead, making it impossible to hear her dog. She strained to see, but her eyes could detect nothing in the inky void. Brody’s flashlight flicked on for a few seconds, giving her time to scan the alleyway. Empty.

  Brody switched the light off. Mattie edged along the concrete, listening for Robo between crashes of thunder. Lightning forked outside the barn ahead of her, and she realized there was an open doorway at the other end. If King had been inside this barn, Robo would have taken him down and she would be hearing the scuffle and his growl.

  Her heart swelled with fear as she realized that her dog must have run through the barn to the other end. Now he was outside, alone and in full apprehension mode. He wouldn’t hesitate to take a person down on his own. “They’ve gone out the back door,” she shouted to Brody, pulling her own flashlight from her belt.

  Guided by the beam, she sprinted down the alleyway. To avoid being a lit target, she turned off the flashlight when she hit the door’s threshold.

  Still no sound. Lightning filled the sky and a wave of rain splashed down, drenching her at once. Thunder cracked. Relying on the small amount of light coming from the electrical storm, she scanned the grassy field.

  And then she heard it. A yelp, followed by her dog’s furious growl. She knew what that sound meant. Robo always glided toward his target like a silent missile, but once he hit, he would bite and hold on to the fugitive, his ferocious throaty snarl rumbling from his chest.

  Robo’s growl filtered through the driving rain, giving her an auditory beacon to home in on.

  She switched her flashlight back on as she heard Isaac King yell. Running as fast as she could, she bolted into the field, the beam lighting her way.

  Robo’s growl intensified, and King screamed with pain. Mattie swept her flashlight’s beam and spotted them, both down on the ground fifty feet away. Robo had King by his right arm and was tugging hard, trying to stretch the man out on the ground.

  Her beam glittered off a silver blade that King gripped in his other hand, slashing down at Robo.

  Running full tilt, Mattie jumped onto King’s back, dropping her flashlight and landing with a thud. His breath whooshed out as she struggled blindly to reach his left hand. His fingers were empty.

  He dropped the knife, her mind screamed at her. Where is it? Keep him away from it.

  Robo still clung to the man’s right arm. Mattie grabbed King’s left wrist while she shoved his hand down into a hard flex, immobilizing it. Still he struggled to get free.

  Brody ran up, his flashlight beam bouncing across the ground and then over them. “Give it up, King,” he shouted. “You’re way outnumbered!”

  Mattie applied more pressure to the man’s thumb, bending it down toward his forearm as she shouted into his face. “Stay still! Give up and I’ll call off the dog!”

  King groaned and quit moving. Mattie shouted at Brody to find the knife. His light glanced off the seven-inch blade of a hunting knife, and he kicked it away from King’s reach while pulling his cuffs from his belt.

  Brody snapped a cuff on King’s left wrist while Mattie told Robo to let go of his right. Robo backed off a step, crouching in guard position, his teeth bared.

  Mattie grabbed King’s right wrist—slippery with rain and blood—and gave him a few inches of space. “Turn over to your stomach,” she said, pushing him into place so that Brody could cuff the man behind his back and pat him down for other weapons.

  Only then did she notice that King’s clothing was saturated with the red color of fresh blood. Alarm bells went off as she realized that Robo must have torn up the man’s arm far more than usual. Her dog had been taught to bite and hold when apprehending a fugitive to lessen the skin damage.

  Does King need first aid? Was an artery torn? She pushed up King’s right sleeve. “Shine the light here on his arm, Brody.”

  Deep indentations marked King’s forearm, but she found only one puncture wound, with a small trickle of blood. It took a split second for her to remember Robo’s yelp. Cold terror washed through her as she staggered up from kneeling beside King.

  “Give me the light,” she said, grabbing Brody’s flashlight from his hand and striding over to Robo. She knew before she got to him that he was hurt. Instead of being up on his toes in guard position, Robo remained crouched on the ground. She murmured soothing sounds as she knelt beside him in the pouring rain.

  His fur was wet and matted, his Kevlar vest still in place, protecting his chest. She ran the light over his head, figuring that would be where the knife had struck. In the beam, his eyes were narrow, his brow puckered, his pain evident. Stroking the top of his head with one hand, she continued to move the flashlight down to his neck to search for bleeding.

  A tear at the top of the Kevlar vest tipped her off. The vest hadn’t been penetrated; it looked more like a glancing blow. But underneath the vest at the base of her dog’s neck, the knife had done its damage. Bright-red blood oozed from a gaping wound.

  “He’s been cut, Brody,” she said, fear gripping he
r throat. “He’s bleeding. Bad.”

  Kneeling in the bloody grass with rain pelting her shoulders, Mattie leaned over Robo, trying to shelter him while she struggled to get to her first-aid kit inside a pouch on her utility belt. Her bloody fingers slipped against the leather as she fumbled with the straps.

  Brody’s radio transmitter crackled to life. “Priority air. K-9 down. One in custody. Need assist fifty yards east of barn.”

  Lights flared on the east side of the barn as two others ran toward them. After seconds that seemed like hours, Mattie managed to open her kit and extract gauze pads. She pressed them against the wound, pinching the gaping edges shut and applying pressure to try to stop the bleeding. Robo whimpered and sank lower onto the ground. “We’ve got to get him to Cole, Brody.”

  “We will.” Sheriff McCoy and Garcia ran up, and Brody used a few curt words to report their situation before barking orders. “Garcia, take charge of the prisoner, secure that knife that’s over there on the ground. Find the gun—he must’ve dropped it when Robo hit him. Sheriff, call Dr. Walker. Mattie, keep up the pressure while I carry him.”

  Brody squatted and scooped up Robo, clasping him at his chest and haunches. With a groan, he lifted the one-hundred-pound dog while Mattie supported him from below and maintained pressure on the wound. Together they set off toward the barn and the K-9 unit.

  Mattie prayed that they could get her partner to Cole’s clinic in time.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Cole had taken the kids home, telling them to go to bed upstairs in Angie’s room while he and Bruno stood guard on the main level. He wasn’t afraid of Isaac King or the others, and he knew that Bruno would sound off if anyone tried to break in.